


The Tempest

by neverminetohold



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - All Media Types, Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: First Time, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-28 13:02:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverminetohold/pseuds/neverminetohold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What draws them together is destructive, but they only lick their lips full of sweet metallic red and drown willingly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tempest

Q's hands are steady on James, like a surgeons. No matter that his whole body quivers with tension, the warm press of his fingertips never falters.  
  
They aim true, at the firing range and here, exploring skin and flesh and muscles; memorizing. Q lingers on the scars, a man's life etched in cell deep, nails tracing, as if he longs to rip them open. He bends down to steal a quick kiss, breath hot on James' lips, their press more lazy than urgent.  
  
The door to the bedroom seems too far away, clothes litter the floor and Q is not what James expected. Being surprised, proven wrong again and again is a thrill even better than the promise of sex.  
  
Getting it right though, Q giving him that devilish smile of pure delight, that is worth the wait, the flirting, the banter, the bruises to get his equipment home in one piece.  
  
Then Q slips through his fingers, a milky stretch of body twisting away from his reaching hands and James leans back against the wall, breathing harder than he should; don't corner him, don't push. He can do that, wants to, because this should mean more, is a chance to learn.  
  
Everything dies and they will too, only faster, blood will spill everywhere, death being vicious, rushing towards them; James is defiant and takes his time.  
  
Q smiles knowingly, as if he stood at the end of time and dipped in his fingers to swirl the dust that will shape the universe, but his words are not poetic, just blunt and sharp. Rules only he may break.  
  
“If I wanted a quick fuck I would pay for it. At least that way professional services are ensured.”  
  
James lifts an eyebrow, amused. “No one ever complained.”  
  
Pushing up his glasses, Q scoffs. “Not impressive considering that your bed warmers rarely survive their encounter with you.”  
  
That might have stung, years ago, but James' eyes are set on his prize, dishevelled hair and pupils blown wide in the twilight of his flat. He only shrugs, shoulder blades scraping over hardwood; a pleasant burn.  
  
“What do you want, Q?”  
  
“I want you to be gentle. It's been a while for me.”  
  
“Couldn't find a suitable whore?” James asks and offers his hand, feels bird-like bones grind in his grip. He leads and Q follows and somehow they fall into bed, the steps on the way already forgotten.  
  
“You are here now,” Q reminds him, oddly gentle and then bites through his lower lip, making James hiss and roll him over. “Did that hurt? If so, then you must be alive.”  
  
He laughs and James shuts him up with a kiss that leaves Q's mouth painted in red, but then he licks it away gently, and that's the way he will fuck him too.  
  
He will fuck him and come back for more, they both will, because dying of thirst in a desert of hollow faced people, Q and James will drink poison over water.  
  
  
[ _Unbeing dead is not being alive. ~ E. E. Cummings_ ]


End file.
